


I'll Get Stuck in Your Head

by Kivea



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Skating, Blow Jobs, Cartman makes Cartman slurs, Enemies to Lovers, Getting Together, Ice Skating, M/M, Making Out, Metrosexual Craig, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Sloppy Makeouts, figure skating, i guess, ice hockey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26348410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivea/pseuds/Kivea
Summary: Craig Tucker had never liked the hockey team. They were barbaric, rude, and he hated watching them tear his ice rink to shreds. He was quite happy never having anything to do with them.Kyle Broflovski was determined to get his attention.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Craig Tucker
Comments: 10
Kudos: 96





	I'll Get Stuck in Your Head

Being on the ice was a feeling that was incomparable to anything else. 

Gliding across the surface, picking up enough speed to feel the air sailing passed his face, performing a routine that was akin to a dance. Being able to skate was so freeing and liberating, and it was a dance that he didn’t think he would ever be willing to part with. It was a feeling he didn’t think anything would be able to match up to. 

Craig loved to ice-skate from the day he stepped one foot onto the rink. 

The worst part of his day would always be when the coach would call out to them after their freestyle time, signalling that their practice had come to an end. He always had to call for them twice, as none of them were particularly eager to part with it. 

“You did well today!” came the encouraging voice of his fellow figure skater, Butters. “I could see you planning a new routine.” 

“You need to keep your brain on yourself,” Craig scolded. “Aren’t you _meant_ to be planning a new routine?” 

He shrugged. “Yeah, maybe, but I could just steal yours.” 

Craig gave him a good shove, scowling at the laughing blonde. “You’ll come up with your own, jackass.” 

“Are you coming to Whistlin’ Willy’s with me and Wends?” 

Craig grimaced at the question, sitting down to pull his skates off as Butters did the same opposite him. “I can’t believe you two are still going there. I can’t believe you convinced _Wendy_ to keep going there.” 

“Oh, c’mon, it’s fun! It’s like a Thursday tradition!” 

“I thought she’d have more taste.” 

“Please?” Butters begged. “I won’t steal your routine if you come!” 

Craig glared. “That’s blackmail.” 

“Is it?” the innocent smile that was anything but innocent passed across the blonde’s face. “Who knew?” 

“Fine,” he ground out. “I’ll come with you.” 

He always went with them. Butters was right. It _was_ tradition. 

They were finishing packing up when the doors opened for the next group who had booked the ice. Butters lit up as the new kids entered the room, waving over at them with a bright smile, while Craig pointedly ignored them. Instead he continued to work on fitting his skates into his bag, fiddling around to give him an excuse to ignore the man. 

“Heya there, you guys getting ready for your next match?” 

“Yeah,” came a familiar voice that just _grated_ on Craig’s nerves. “How was your practice?” 

“It was good! We did really well. Craig’s making a new routine!” 

Craig in turn gave Butters a warning look. “Dude.” 

“What?” the blonde belatedly realised his mistake. “Oh, uh...” 

“It's fine, Butters,” the newcomer assured with a pat on the shoulder. “I’m not so sensitive that I’m going to start grinding my teeth just because you talk about your friend.” 

Craig finally stood to his full height and turned his gaze to the newcomer. 

Stan Marsh stood there, smile on his face and anger in his eyes that promised Craig that his words were _d_ _efinitel_ _y_ a dig at Craig. It was all he needed to get his temper flaring. 

Stan was the leader of their local ice-hockey team, and he and Craig had never really seen eye to eye, not since Stan had been fooling around on the ice as a young teenager and showered Craig in a flurry of ice while showing off to his friends. 

Not that Craig wasn’t exactly a fan of their ice-hockey team in general, or the way the group would rip around the ice, messing about far too much and not taking their sport seriously at all. 

It did a disservice to their reputation, to have gorillas on the ice tearing it to shreds. 

“I’m sorry that I don’t want to be dragged into a conversation with you,” Craig started with a look of disapproval plastered on his face. “Sometimes you speak to me and I can feel my brain cells depleting.” 

Stan folded his arms across his chest and glared up at Craig. The height difference was minor, but it was enough to make Craig feel like he’d won something. “How about you pull your neck in, Tucker? Don’t want you saying something you’ll regret.” 

Craig felt a rush of hot fury burn through him and narrowed his eyes. “Just because I know how to stand up straight doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass, Marsh.” 

“You don’t even know how ice-hockey works!” Stan growled out in argument. “Don’t judge us when you can’t even play the game! Go back to dancing in circles.” 

“Oh, and you know so much about figure skating?” 

Stan huffed and crossed his arms. “At least I’ve watched figure skaters. You’ve probably never seen a hockey game.” 

“And I don’t plan to.” 

“Don’t act like you’re so much better then!” 

It was like a branch snapping in his mind. “I’ll go see your dumb game, if one of you manages to prove you’re just as capable on that ice as me.” 

“You’re so full of shit!” Stan’s face twisted into a snarl. “We are capable! We-?!” 

“I’ll do it.” 

The rink fell silent. The players all turned to see one of their own taking off the pads wrapped round his body, brown eyes focused on what he was doing. Craig dimly registered the player as Kyle Broflovski once he’d taken his helmet off to reveal a mess of red curls to the world, messy on top and shaved at the side. Craig narrowed his eyes on the man. 

“Kyle,” Stan started, tone dropping from angry to gentle. “You don’t have to prove anything to this asshole.” 

“No, I do,” Kyle insisted, dropping the last of his gear to the floor, before turning his eyes to Craig. “You want me to do figure skating to prove it, right?” 

Craig folded his arms across his chest. “It takes years of practice to do a routine. You think you can execute one without that?” 

Kyle didn’t speak. He just took to the ice, the rest watching on in silence as he began to do a couple of warmup rounds on the rink before steeling himself and raising his arms. 

He moved with...surprising grace. It was something Craig had never seen on one of the hockey players before, gliding across the ice near flawlessly. No build-up of speed or angered movements. Only the strength and poise that people came to associate with figure skaters. It was enough to make him regret it, yet all he could focus on was the familiar tug he was getting from the choreography of the moves. 

As Kyle skated backwards, feet carving patterns into the ice, hands behind his back, Craig watched on mesmerized as he tried to place the routine. It was one he knew, he was sure of it. It was simple, a beginner set, yet years of playing sports on the ice had given Kyle a good head start with keeping his balance and performing fancy footwork. 

He hated to admit it, but he was impressed. 

It dawned on him where he knew the routine from as it started its climax. The difficulty began to ramp up and the moves became more advanced than Craig expected the redhead to be able to pull off, yet... 

He was keeping up with it. He was executing it, concentration on his face. Maybe he wasn’t as expressive as Craig or Butters were, but he was technically almost flawless. 

His breath caught in his throat as the man reached the finishing move of the routine; a double axel. He watched as the hockey player grimaced as he started, feeling the strain from the rest of the routine catch up to him and- 

He stumbled as he landed back on the ice, tripping over himself, and landing shoulder first straight onto the rink. 

Craig struggled to speak, even after the redhead’s shoulder hit the floor. One of them rushed onto the ice to offer him a hand, checking the grimacing man was okay. Craig couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the knowledge of that routine. 

That was _his_ routine. From his first competition as a professional. So similar, that he even fell at the end, the same way Craig had done. 

“See?” Stan’s voice boomed with pride. “If Kyle can-!” 

“I said prove you’re as capable as me,” Craig cut him off, though his voice lacked its usual heat. “I wouldn’t fall on that spin.” 

He didn’t wait for a response. He picked up his bag and made for the door without looking back. 

\--

It sat with him for far too long. He was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the routine in his mind. It was an exact match, exactly his routine. He’d even gone and found an old video of it to make sure that he wasn’t imagining things, yet... 

When he had watched the video it only made him more nervous, for some reason he couldn’t pinpoint. He reached the end, seeing the way that he’d fallen at the end, crashing into his shoulder before he picked himself back up and attempted to recover, and he slammed the laptop closed so he didn’t have to look at it anymore. 

Why did that dumb, graceless ice-hockey player know his routine? 

He got out his phone and fired a text to Butters. 

_I want you to get me a ticket for the game._

It wasn’t a text Craig ever thought he’d have to send. Honestly, it was still kind of surreal to him, yet he couldn’t deny it was real. Here he was on a Friday morning, sat with a coffee at his breakfast bar, messaging Butters and asking for a ticket to the ice-hockey game. 

_You_ _wanna_ _come with me??_

He knew that Butters attended the games, and he knew he didn’t want to be caught dead buying a ticket himself. He intended to keep his attendance a secret that he’d take to his grave. 

_Yes._

_Well sure! It’ll be nice to have company :)_

He pressed the call button, deciding that this was serious enough that he was going to get Butters on the line. He was nervous. He didn’t want anyone to find out. He was trusting Butters, damnit. 

_“Hello?”_

“You can’t tell anyone,” Craig growled out. “You got it?” 

_“What, about you wanting to go see Kyle play?”_

“I’m not-?!” he spluttered at the accusation. “That’s not why I’m going!” 

_“Uh-huh._ _Sure_ _it_ _ain’t_ _”_

“I’m serious, Butters! I don’t want you to go telling everyone to expect me there.” 

_“I won’t, I promise. Your secret’s safe with me!”_

“What time do you usually go?” 

They made their plans for the night, and Craig left the call feeling nervous energy strumming through him. He found it difficult to concentrate on his day, waiting for some kind of call or text from someone at the rink calling him out on wanting to attend the game. 

Maybe he shouldn’t always make such a big deal of his dislike for the ice hockey players. Then it wouldn’t be such a big deal about him going, but... 

They just pissed him off. 

_Kyle_ just pissed him off. 

He kept playing the routine over and over in his head. He didn’t know what he planned to achieve by going to see the game, but he wanted to know more. He wanted to know why Kyle knew that routine, and why he could even do it. He wanted to know if he played hockey the same way. He just... 

Wanted to know more about Kyle. 

The game came round quick enough. He dressed with a black hood pulled up over his head, and sunglasses on his face to try and obscure himself a little more. He met Butters there, though he chose public transport over driving so that no one would recognize his car parked outside. Butters greeted him with a wave and led their way inside. 

It wasn’t until they were at the stands, overlooking the ice that was being prepared, people filtering in around them that Butters actually spoke. 

“Are you sure you need the sunglasses?” Butters asked with a doubtful face. “They seem a little…” 

“I am not being recognised by Marsh,” Craig defended with a growl. “The last thing I need is him knowing I’m here.” 

“He’s not a total idiot. You kinda still...look like you.” 

Craig huffed out. “Let’s just get our seats, alright? Don’t...draw attention.” 

They moved through the stands, finding their place near the back. It had been Craig’s request, though he wasn’t sure how inconspicuous it actually made them now they were sat down. Did the players expect Butters to be in his usual spot to cheer them on? Ever the cheerleader for events at their local rink. 

Yet they didn’t seem too interested in who was sat round. It became pretty clear pretty quickly that he didn’t have to worry about being spotted. Instead he focused his attention on trying to decipher which one was Kyle. 

“His name’s Broflovski,” Butters supplied as if he didn’t know. “He’s the right wing.” 

“I told you, that’s not why I’m here.” 

“Yeah, and I told you, I don’t believe you.” 

The game started, and the tone of the arena shifted. 

He spent most of the game with his eyes trained on one player, the same one that he couldn’t get out of his head after the stunt he pulled at practice. He watched the man collide around the ice with all the grace of any other dumb ice-hockey player he’d ever see, the elegance of the routine he performed all gone. Now, he was strength and speed. 

Craig would be lying if he said it wasn’t a pretty admirable amount of strength. 

The man held his own, never wavering against the opposition. He supported his teammates and, okay, yes, there were a few swerves and moves that were admittedly borderline graceful. At least you needed to have grace to pull them off; needed to know your way around the ice and have a certain amount of mastery and skill to be able to pull them off. 

Whenever a goal was scored by their team, Butters was one of the first people on his feet, and a couple of moments had Craig ducking his head behind his hand as the blonde would spring up with a loud cheer. 

“Sorry!” Butters apologised after a particularly loud shout. “I forgot we were trying to be incognito.” 

“Your apologies always sound empty.” 

“No, this time I’m _genuinely_ sorry.” 

Craig gave his friend a pointed look. 

The game went on for too long, considering Craig didn’t really know what was happening. After the first half he started asking a few questions to the blonde, which at least made him less vocal and attention grabbing, but meant he parroted a commentary along with the game, including a lesson on how it was played. 

“I didn’t know you knew so much about ice-hockey.” 

Butters shrugged it off with a smile. “I know you don’t like it, so I try not to talk about it.” 

It was...oddly warming, to know that Butters tried to avoid a topic specifically because Craig didn’t like it. 

It made him feel a little guilty. 

The game came to a close and the Park County team had won. There was cheering and support for them, and Kyle took off his helmet... 

Craig found himself stuck on the red curls and wide grin, teeth flashing as he laughed at something Stan said when the pair collided into a hug on the ice. 

“Do you want to sneak out now?” Butters suggested. “I was gonna go say congrats to them. It’ll give you time to get out?” 

“Thanks. I’ll do that.” 

“Sure thing, buddy. Oh, but, if you _did_ want to see Kyle, they usually leave by the back left exit!” 

He didn’t respond. Instead he shot to his feet and practically ran from the building, glancing behind only to check that Butters had gone down to the screen, seeing him chatting to Stan with a wide smile and bubbly voice. 

Craig was half way through the carpark to head for the bus stops on the main road when his feet slowed to a stop. He planned on just leaving, hoping that seeing Kyle play in action would at least push him further into the same territory as Marsh; someone he lacked respect for, and did not want to give the time of day, but... 

His brain was still nagging at him. Still asking why. Why did he know that routine, and how did he pull it off so flawlessly? 

His legs moved without his permission. 

He found himself waiting outside the back left exit, ducking just behind a pillar to avoid being spotted by the players. He watched many of them leave, seeing a group come out all at once, but missing one person. 

Stan wasn’t there. Craig thought back to the sight of Butters keeping him in conversation on the ice while the rest of the hockey players moved to change. 

Kyle said goodbye to his other teammates, and Craig assumed that the redhead would be waiting for their leader. He waited long enough for the others to disappear from view before he stepped forward, pushing his sunglasses up onto his forehead as his whole worldview seemed to narrow and focus in on one person. 

Brown eyes turned to look at him as he approached, smile on his face fading into surprise as the distance grew shorter. The man opposite him raised his chin and stood a little straighter. 

“You came.” 

Craig wasted no time in firing the question he wanted the answer to. “I just wanted to know where the hell you learnt that routine?” 

“Uh...” brown eyes skittered around the car park. “I just...practiced, y’know? Like anything.” 

“Bull. Shit.” Craig pressed a finger into Kyle’s chest. “Where? Who taught you _that_ routine?” 

The redheads face hardened as he realised there was no backing out. “Wendy.” 

“That bitch!” he threw his arms wide. “Why is she teaching people _my_ routine?” 

“I asked.” 

That stunned him into silence. 

“I asked her to teach me that routine. She said it wasn’t easy, and you need training to pull it off. I said that if you managed to perfect it as your first one, then she could teach me it as my first one.” 

“But I didn’t perfect it,” Craig pressed. “The last spin you-?” 

“I didn’t fuck it up on purpose, if that’s what you’re asking. I...wanted to nail it. I guess I needed more time,” he shrugged and turned away. “Got a bit overconfident, huh?” 

There were so many things he wanted to ask. He wanted to ask Kyle how he found his first routine. Wanted to ask why he’d picked it as the one he wanted to learn. Wanted to ask why he wanted to learn any routine in the first place when he was a member of a small town ice hockey team that promised to make it big. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he snapped, licking his lips as he tried to figure out where to even start. “I just...?” 

“What, don’t like being upstaged?” Kyle teased with a sly grin. “I didn’t do it to show you up, y’know. I just wanted you to come to one of our games.” 

"Why?” 

The grin widened, and Craig got caught on the fact that his left incisor tooth was chipped at the side. “Guess I wanted an excuse for us to show off to you, for once.” 

He felt a flare of embarrassment and forced a scowl onto his face as he felt his cheeks begin to heat up. “Well, congratulations. You got your chance.” 

“Did...it work?” 

“What work?” 

“Showing off?” there was a nervousness in his expression that was making Craig equally nervous. “Were you impressed?” 

Before the panic could fully set in and help him form a response, they were interrupted by someone calling for Kyle. He recognised the voice as Stan Marsh and his fight or flight kicked in, looming over the redhead and glaring through the blush on his face. 

“You don’t tell him I was here, got it?” 

Kyle just shrugged with a coy smile. “He’s like, my super best friend. We don’t keep secrets.” 

“What kind of gay-ass shit is-?!” 

“Kyle?!” Stan’s voice was getting closer. “Dude, where’d you go?!” 

“Shit,” he swore and turned on his heel. 

Kyle wasn’t done. “You never answered me!” 

He picked up his pace and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“Were you impressed?!” 

He flipped the bird over his shoulder and did his best to calm the way his heart was racing in his chest. 

\--

Confronting Wendy was easy. They practiced at similar times, working with the same coach as Butters, and their coach always liked to spend part of their session with each of them individually. It gave him chance while he and Wendy were both doing their own thing, Butters with the coach’s attention, to walk up to her and demand an answer. 

She turned and spoke before he could, hands clasped behind her back looking up with icy blue eyes. 

“What did you think of Kyle’s routine?” 

It was so out the blue that he lost his words on his tongue, spluttering through an attempt at a word as she folded her arms across her chest. 

“What, did you think he wouldn’t tell me when he did it, after he badgered me to teach him?” 

He managed to regain some composure. “Why the fuck did you teach him my routine?” 

“Because he asked. Like, multiple times,” she let out a sigh of frustration. “I told him it was a bad idea, but he was so insistent. Eventually I caved.” 

He didn’t really have a response to that. He was no closer to satisfying the burning question in his brain of who the fuck the redheaded asshole thought he was. 

“He said he fucked up on the double axel at the end?” 

“Yeah,” Craig muttered. “He did.” 

“Other than that, did he do okay?” 

Craig’s first response was to bark out a _no_ in protest to the whole ordeal. But he knew why Wendy was asking. 

Sure, maybe she wanted to know if her friend did a good job, but he remembered her expressing once that one day she might be able to coach younger skaters, just like them. So, he didn’t say no. 

“He did,” he confessed. “I didn’t expect it.” 

She let out a breath of relief. “I’m glad. Pretty funny how the move he fucked up was-?” 

He scoffed. “It’s not that weird.” 

“Why? He said he fell just like you did.” 

“Yeah, of course he did, because I way overshot it on that routine. It’s meant to be a beginner set, but I tried to cram too much in at the end, and it puts too much strain on the skater.” 

She turned her attention to where Butters was skating. “You still push yourself too far sometimes.” 

He looked to their blonde friend who skated around at the coach’s instructions. “Why…?” 

“Why what?” 

His brows scrunched up as he tried to figure out what it was he wanted the answer to. “Why did he pick…that routine?” 

“You mean your routine?” she asked. “He said he thought it was the best way to get your attention.” 

He thought back to the last question Kyle had asked him. 

_Were you impressed?_

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” he grumbled out. “I’m fine.” 

“I guess he got your attention then, huh?” 

He glared down at her. 

She was kind enough to look back out to Butters as the whispers of a smile formed on her face. “How does it feel, knowing one of those – how do you call them? - hockey hooligans wanted your attention?” 

“Shit,” he growled out. Butters crouched down as he glided backwards, raising his hands out towards the sky. “I wish they’d all just fuck off and leave me and my rink alone.” 

“It’s not _your_ rink. It’s the county’s rink.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Enough about Kyle,” Wendy decided, thankfully saving him from any more embarrassing questions. “Butters was talking about Whistlin’ Willy’s this Thursday _again,_ and I do not want to go back there so soon. Help me think of an alternative?” 

He was eager to join in on that train of thought. 

He managed to push the thoughts of Kyle to the back of his mind for the most part until they were finishing up. He finished with the coach, heading to where Wendy and Butters were getting ready to leave as more members of the public arrived to use the ice rink. 

“…tomorrow?” 

Wendy shrugged at the question Butters had posed to her. “I’m busy tomorrow. I’m getting up early so that I can come to the rink with Kyle.” 

Butters glanced from her to Craig and back. “Oh?” 

Craig rolled his eyes at the badly covered interest. “She’s been teaching Kyle, _that’s_ how he knew that fucking routine.” 

“Oh! What time are you teaching him?” 

“As soon as it opens. It’s pretty quiet on a Tuesday morning, so no one else will be around.” 

Craig frowned as he imagined the pair of them at the rink, working on figure skating, running through his routine and where Kyle had gone wrong. 

“What about you, Craig?” Butters asked with the voice of innocence. “Are you free tomorrow?” 

“No.” 

When he looked up he found the pair staring at him, waiting for him to expand. He didn’t. 

It wasn’t like he made the plan to go the next day to see. But the thought stayed with him for the rest of the day, and when he was lying in bed thinking about it he decided that he couldn’t let it go. He was going to get to the bottom of this Kyle Broflovski shit if it killed him. 

\--

He made sure to get there half an hour after opening time. He doubted they were there longer than an hour, and he didn’t really want to sit and spend the whole time watching them. He also didn’t want to risk them seeing him, so it seemed liked a better plan to go when they would probably be on the ice already. 

There were four doors that lead into the ice rink. Two at the front, right by reception for spectators who were there to sit in the stands, and two at the back that lead to the changing rooms. He came via the back right, doing his best to be quiet as he opened the door, despite how clunky they could be. It was a good job he knew the place so well. 

Wendy was the first thing he saw, gliding across the ice with her usual poise. She spread her arms wide, allowing the momentum to take her as she started speaking to someone who was just out of shot. 

He sucked in a breath when her partner appeared. 

Kyle sailed up behind her, taking hold of her arms and pushing her round the ice further. He had a look of fierce concentration on his face as she continued to instruct him, and he adjusted his posture accordingly. Craig inched his way closer to the rink to get a proper view of them as they nearly disappeared out of view. 

He was wearing exactly what Craig expected; an orange jumper with print down the side and quarter-length trousers that were a bit baggy for Craig’s tastes. Compared to the figure skater’s usual choices of thick leggings he stood out a little bit. But it suited him. Craig sat and tried to pick fault with his clothing, with his posture, with the look on his face as he moved, but... 

He was beginning to struggle. He was getting too caught up in the well-shaped jaw that was clenched tight, and the way his curls moved with the gust of air created when they skated. 

He skated well. It wasn’t like Craig was unaware that the hockey players had to have some kind of talent on the ice, but it was disappointing that the flaws in his technique were scarce. Not enough to cause Craig to scrunch his face up in disapproval. 

In fact, he was so busy focusing on trying to find _something_ wrong with Kyle, he completely missed the way Wendy’s icy blues settled on him before she rolled her eyes. 

He didn’t look at her until she was pulling back, instructing Kyle to keep going while she took a break. 

As soon as she was off the ice, her eyes met his. He froze in his spot as she raised a brow and made her way to the front row of the stands where the two of them had dumped all their shit. Craig let out a frustrated sigh and decided to give up his hiding spot. Instead he moved over to her once she was sat down and was taking a drink from her water bottle. 

“How long have you known I was here?” 

“A while,” she admitted. “I wanted to know how long you were planning to stay hidden for.” 

He scowled down at her. 

“Did you bring your skates with you?” 

“Yes, I brought my skates with me. Why else would I have come here?” 

She levelled him a deadpan look, but didn’t comment on what the other reason might’ve been. “Good. I need to leave, take over, will you?” 

“Wha-?!” 

“I’ve been teaching him some pair-moves,” she explained. “Just, y’know, mostly to get used to the feeling of skating around on the ice with someone attached. I did teach him a spin.” 

“I’m not going to-?!” 

But she was already sitting down taking off her skates. “We’ve only got about ten or twenty minutes left in, so it’s just winding up. Ask him to show you what I’ve taught him or something.” 

“You’re such a cun-!” 

“Kyle!” she shouted out across the rink. “Craig’s taking over. I’ll text you later, yeah?” 

Kyle stared back at her with a slack jaw, eyes darting between her and Craig. “Uh…if you need to, we can call it-?” 

But she was already disappearing, totally blanking him and his suggestion to finish. 

When the door shut behind her it left the two men plunged into silence. He turned to see the redhead staring at the door, standing stock still in the middle of the ice as if trying to figure out exactly what was happening. But Craig knew what was happening; whether she planned to or not, Wendy had given him a chance to corner Kyle and try get into the jackass’s head. 

So he sat down and started to put on his skates, abandoning his bag and his shoes on the front row of seats instead of in the changing area or the lockers. Kyle was still standing there when he made onto the ice and started to skate, adjusting to the feeling that he loved so much. 

“She said to get you to show me what she’d taught you so far,” he explained as he began his laps round where Kyle stood in the middle of the rink. He felt a little like he was circling his prey. 

Kyle blanched. “You’re serious? You’re not – she’s not going to check if you do.” 

“I’m serious,” he confirmed. 

“I’m not – she was teaching me stuff with her. To like, skate together.” 

Craig skated in circles that closed in on the redhead. “What happened to wanting to impress me?” 

Kyle’s cheeks began to darken, and Craig felt an odd sense of satisfaction watching the man struggle to spin round and keep his gaze on him. 

“You’ve got my attention, Broflovski,” he announced as he came to a stop in front of the redhead. “You want to show off? Now’s your chance.” 

“Fine,” the redhead agreed with a scowl. 

Kyle was stiff. They started skating together and he mumbled his way through what Wendy had taught him while Craig got a feel for how he skated. Despite it all… 

He just could not figure out what it was that Kyle wanted out of him. He was here, awkward and embarrassed about having to skate together, even though a few days ago he had confidently shouted across demanding to know if he had impressed Craig. 

Sometimes it was like Kyle didn’t like him. 

“She then – she turned round, and I like, pushed us forward?” 

“I know the one,” he confirmed as he spun to skate backwards and reached his hands out. “Guide me into it.” 

“Are you – as if you were Wendy, yeah?” 

“Yes.” 

He did so. Kyle took his hands and stepped up to pull them both round, one arm stretched out at, the other across Craig’s torso to his waist for support. Craig mirrored him, with one arm stretched wide and one settling across Kyle’s collar to rest on his opposite shoulder. 

He could see the way the red curls moved with the breeze passing by them, and the way the tips of Kyle’s ears were tinged red. 

“Is – am I doing it right?” 

“Closer,” Craig muttered as Kyle turned to him for direction, one arm stretched wide to mirror Craig’s. “You should be able to feel our sides pressed together.” 

“Are you sure?” Kyle spluttered out with a flush of pink across his cheeks. “I don’t want to-?!” 

“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t sure.” 

Kyle did as he was asked, and continued to skate forward to propel them both round the rink. Craig took the chance to observe the man’s face from up close, roaming across the lightly freckled skin and hooked nose, his pink lips and brown eyes. He had a certain...air to him that Craig admitted was appealing. He stood out among the rest of the hockey players; he’d go as far to say he stood out across many of the townsfolk. 

“You don’t like me.” 

Kyle looked back at him with wide eyes. “What?” 

“Stan doesn’t, and if you’re that close, why would you?” 

“Stan doesn’t control the way I feel about people.” 

“Are you saying I’m wrong?” 

Kyle hesitated. 

He raised a brow. 

“You don’t like us, and I don’t like the way you talk to us.” 

“I don’t, you’re right.” 

“I think you’re an asshole sometimes. But…I think maybe you’re not always an asshole.” 

Craig turned away, watching their skates etch patterns into the ground. 

“Is - can we do a lift?” 

“No,” Craig scowled at him, picking his feet up and gliding into a turn, falling into pace beside Kyle and clasping their hands together. “We’re not doing a lift.” 

“Why not?” 

“They require a lot of trust. The only people I’d be willing to lift are Butters and Wendy, and that’s just because I’ve skated with them before.” 

“What if I lifted you?” 

“Fuck no,” Craig glared across at the redhead. “You are _not_ lifting me on the ice.” 

“What do I have to do to lift you? Like, what are my goal posts?” 

He scrunched his face up. “Do that routine without falling at the end, then we’ll talk goal posts for lifts.” 

“I can do that,” Kyle decided resolutely. “Easy.” 

“She taught you a spin.” 

“Uh, yeah, for the – in the middle of.” 

Craig led the way, bringing them together in the centre with some speed before he launched into the spin. Their hands were grasped together, using the momentum of their skating to begin the spin as they crouched down near the ice. He met Kyle’s gaze, finding the brown eyes already settled on him; brows pulled together with a crease as the man concentrated on what he was doing. 

Craig began to raise them up as they lost speed, using the position of his skates to slow them down further. To Kyle’s credit, he didn’t break eye contact as they rose and assumed what Butters always referred to as a ‘ballroom-looking’ embrace. Kyle’s hand settled on his hip, and from this close, facing head on, Craig noticed that he had a few inches on the redhead, who was looking up at him. 

Kyle seemed a little short of breath. His eyes were still locked with Craig’s. Craig didn’t want to break the moment. 

“Thanks.” 

Craig gave a questioning hum. 

“For skating with me.” 

“You wanted my attention, right?” 

Kyle nodded, only once. 

“Well, you’ve got it.” 

The redhead sucked in a large breath, and Craig felt Kyle’s chest expand against his own. 

“Now what?” 

Kyle licked his lips, but before he could find a way to answer, they heard the door opening. Craig pulled back as he spun round to see who had interrupted them, and saw Kyle’s figure retreating out the corner of his eyes. 

“Kyle are you-?” 

They looked across to see wide blue eyes staring at them, jaw slack, and Craig felt that familiar flare of annoyance at seeing Stan Marsh’s face. 

“Uh...am I...interrupting something?” 

“No,” he said decisively. “I was just leaving.” 

“But-!” 

He shot Kyle a warning look that promptly shut the redhead up. 

“Okay, well, don’t let me stop you,” Stan muttered, wide eyes looking Craig up and down. 

“I won’t.” 

“Can I have your number?” 

Craig snapped his gaze to Kyle again, looking horrified that he’d even think of asking such a question in that moment. In front of someone else. 

But the redhead didn’t back down, looking across with a set jaw and wild eyes. 

“No,” he shot down, eyes flickering to where Stan stood. “Not happening.” 

Kyle huffed out and looked ready to argue the point with him. 

He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and turned away, beginning his skate towards the left-wing doors. “We’ll talk goalposts, after that routine.” 

He allowed the doors to swing shut behind him and found a bench to sit down and take his skates off at, though he took a moment to compose himself first. This wasn’t the first time that he had left a conversation with Kyle feeling like his heart was trying to break its way out of his chest. He was beginning to think that it wouldn’t be the last time, either. 

\--

The video came in three days later. Three days later when he was sat in his living room from Wendy, recorded on her phone. He knew what it would be as soon as he opened it and saw the thumbnail image of Kyle on the ice, but he still clicked it. He still watched it, from start to finish. 

The redhead still looked a little stiff in places. Now that he wasn’t stunned by the sheer fact that he knew how to figure skate wasn’t blinding his judgement, Craig felt like he could pick it apart a bit more. Even then, it was still an impressive accomplishment in such a short space of time. 

He watched as Kyle ramped up to the double axel finish, snorting as he landed and his face flooded with panic at the wobble, but he stayed standing. 

Brown eyes and a toothy grin flashed up towards the camera, or the camera woman behind it, and Craig caught sight of that chipped tooth. 

“I did it!” 

Wendy’s laughter filled the speakers, much closer than Kyle’s voice. “You did it!” 

It was attached with a short message: 

_He asked me to send you this._

He didn’t respond. Instead he saved the video to his phone and watched it again. And again. 

But just the end. Just that blinding smile. 

He knew that the next time he saw Kyle, it wouldn’t be on his own. Yet he didn’t respond or ask for the other man’s number. 

Instead he waited, building up the frustrations till the next day, when they were finishing their skate. Butters and he were sat in the seats they had been on the fateful day that Kyle had first stepped on the ice in front of him, and the blonde was chattering away just like that day. Just like every day. 

Craig was prepared this time, though. 

The hockey players entered the room and Craig finished packing his skates into his bag, tossing it over one shoulder as Butters scrambled to catch up. But Craig didn’t give him a chance. 

Instead he strode straight over to Kyle, who was wrapped up in his protective gear already with his helmet in his hands, and grabbed the redhead’s shoulder. 

“Woah - shit, dude, chill out.” 

“Come with me.” 

He didn’t look over his shoulder to see what the others were doing. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Instead he dragged the redhead through to the changing area and towards the room where the public skates were kept. Kyle managed to keep up without falling over. 

He turned on the light and spun round, facing the man head-on in the cramped room, narrowed eyes as Kyle looked across at him somewhere between concerned and annoyed. 

“You could’ve just asked me to follow you.” 

“So, you want my phone number?” 

A delightful red flush spread across Kyle’s cheeks, and he clutched his helmet a little bit closer. 

“What, is this a bad attempt at flirting?” Craig pressed as he felt irritation rise. “Is that why you apparently wanted my attention?” 

“I’m not flirting!” Kyle snapped back with a scowl. 

“If you’re not flirting, why do you want my number?” Craig pressed. “We’ve never had a full conversation together before you performed that routine in front of all your hockey friends to try show me up.” 

“I wasn’t trying to show you up!” Kyle argued. “I was trying to get you to come see one of our games! I’m not – I’m not trying to get your attention like that, okay?” 

“Then why?” 

Kyle faltered. 

Craig took a step closer. “Why do you want my attention so badly?” 

“I admire you, okay?!” Kyle admitted with flushed cheeks. “We came to see the local competitions a little while ago, and…I thought you were really impressive. You impress me. I couldn’t get you out of my head, but you’re such an asshole. I knew I’d have to do something a bit dramatic to get your attention.” 

Craig scoffed. “I can’t believe this. Are you that blind to your own emotions? You _are_ flirting with me, whether you’re interested in my personality or my looks.” 

“Maybe I just want you to give us a chance? Maybe I just want to know if you’re as much of an asshole as you seem? When you skated…” Kyle’s expression shifted, becoming softer as if remembering something good. “…You didn’t seem like the person I thought you were. I want to know if I’m wrong.” 

“What if I am?” Craig asked. “What if I’m actually hopelessly boring outside of skating or if I’m a kleptomaniac?” 

“I guess I’ll find out.” 

Craig threw his arms in the air and moved to turn around and pace, seeing as Kyle was between him and the door. “This is ridiculous! You like the way I look when I’m skating, that’s _it_. If what you want is a quick fu-?” 

Kyle grabbed his arm and spun him back round, and Craig suddenly felt a lot smaller, despite the other being the shorter one. Maybe it was the extra padding that had bulked out his already well-built physique, or maybe it was the intensity in his round, brown eyes, but it pinned Craig to the spot, unable to get out. 

“I’m not going to force you to give me your number,” Kyle explained with a level voice. “But don’t go acting like what I’m doing is crazy. Yeah, maybe I’m basing it off the way you look when you’re skating, but the way that you look when you’re skating is fucking captivating, alright?” 

He honestly felt a little weak at the knees, and he hated it. 

“I don’t see why me wanting to get to know you is such a bad thing.” 

"I don’t like it when people decide they like some fairy-tale vision of me,” he admitted, guard up in his voice. “What I’m like when I skate is different to what I’m like normally.” 

Kyle stepped forward, closing that gap a little more, with fire burning in his eyes. The skates on his feet brought them to a much more level height, and Craig found himself looking dead on at the redhead. “Prove it.” 

He didn’t plan to kiss the hockey player in the storage room for the public skates. When he decided to speak to him, it was with a resolution to get rid of the weird thing that was building between them, not succumb to it. Yet, here he was, with his hands clasping Kyle’s face by his jaw as he pressed their lips together and gave into that burning in his stomach. 

He wasn’t sure what he expected in return, but he wasn’t disappointed by it. 

Kyle returned the kiss with fury. Their lips moved together and Craig gasped out as he was pushed backwards, back hitting the rows of skates with enough force to shake them, but he didn’t stop to consider how uncomfortable it was having skates digging into his back. Instead he let go of Kyle long enough to allow his bag to fall off his shoulders and hit the floor, though he didn’t break the kiss. 

Hands wandered across his body; down his sides towards his hips, gripping tightly and pulling him close. He struggled to match the pace as he grasped at the fabric exposed and not covered in hockey padding. He settled for tangling his hands into the red curls instead as his insides burned with fire once the redhead bit down on his bottom lip. 

It was a little on the rough side, and that suited him fine. 

Kyle pulled back, opening his mouth as if to speak, but Craig just took it as an invitation to deepen the kiss and allow their tongues to meet. The noise that he elicited from the redhead promised that making out was more important than whatever he was going to say. 

“Kyle!” Butter’s voice broke through the buzzing sounds in their heads, and Craig finally pulled back from the kiss, only to find himself still kept in place by the arms around his waist. “They need you to start practice, bud!” 

“I should go,” Kyle murmured, close enough that Craig could feel his breath. 

“Kyle?!” Butters continued. “Gosh darn it, where’s that Craig taken you to?” 

“You should,” Craig agreed. 

But instead Kyle leant forward again, pressing another hungry kiss against Craig’s lips. He revelled in it; eyes fluttering shut as he allowed himself to be swept away in the other man. 

It didn’t last this time. Instead, Kyle pulled away and let Craig go, beginning to step back towards the exit where Butter’s voice was still calling through the hallways, getting further away. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted with a smirk forming on his lips. “Maybe I’m more interested in you than I’d like to admit.” 

Craig felt a flare of embarrassment as Kyle shot him a cheeky, wide grin, chipped tooth and all. He didn’t have time to formulate a clever response before Kyle had disappeared from view and could be heard rushing back towards the rink. 

He took his time to compose himself before he left the storage room and turned off the light, finding Butters standing outside with his arms crossed and narrowed eyes. 

“What?” 

“You two better not have been doing anything you shouldn’t’ve been doing in there,” Butters scolded. “Why, this ain’t some kind of-?” 

“Jesus, no!” Craig cut his friend off before the sentence could be finished. “What the fuck, Butters?” 

“Well, you just went stealing him without saying anything! What were we meant to think?” 

“Not that!” 

“Stan said-?” 

“Oh, for _fucks sake_.” 

“-That he’d seen you both dancing all close-like a few days ago. He thinks there might be something...going on between you both.” 

“I don’t care what Marsh thinks,” Craig spat out. “Are we going, or what?” 

“You better have a good explanation for me, when we get to Whistlin’ Willy’s.” 

“Why are we-?” 

“Because I had to go covering for you, and you know I don’t like to lie.” 

Craig stopped at that. 

“Stan wanted to come find you himself,” Butters explained. “But I told him that he really oughta get on the ice and start his warm up for a good practice, so I’d come get you instead.” 

“That’s not you lying.” 

Butters glared. 

They ended up at Whistlin’ Willy’s, and he at least got a good fill of their milkshake deal that he never got to experience on Thursdays. Wendy would be happy to have escaped it that week, as Butters wouldn’t make him go twice in one week. 

He was in Butters’ car on the way home when he decided to text Wendy. His brain was buzzing with the memory of having strong hands holding him, another person pressed against him, and that playful smirk and chipped tooth. 

_Give me his phone number._

Wendy was quick to respond, with nothing other than a text with a shared contact message for Kyle B. He was grateful that she didn’t ask a thousand questions. 

He opened a new text conversation and tried not to think too hard as he came up with the words to start it with. 

\--

They began to text. 

When he said that, he really meant it. He felt like he learnt a lot about Kyle over a very short period. He liked video games, and owned a PlayStation even though he preferred Xbox, because he and Stan had flipped a coin to see which they would get to play on together. 

He learnt that Kyle’s younger brother was called Ike, and that the pair of them were very close. He hated bananas, and one of his favourite places to visit was the aquarium in the closest city to their town. 

Kyle learnt about him, too. 

He wasn’t trying to be off-putting. He wasn’t sure if he was, but he felt like it. Like nothing he said was going to be enough. Like it was a matter of time before Kyle changed his mind. 

“I want you to teach Kyle tomorrow.” 

Wendy said it out the blue, and Craig didn’t really know how to respond at first. They were all sat around the table at the pizzeria she had chosen, the pair of them boycotting Whistlin’ Willy’s this Thursday. 

He looked at Butters, who looked just as startled as he felt. 

Wendy kept going like they were totally on the same page. “I’m going to be busy with my dad, he’s asked me to help him pick an anniversary present for mom, and I couldn’t say no. I figured you wouldn’t mind, either. He can do the routine in person rather than just over a video.” 

“Uh, no?” Craig settled on an emotion and expression: disgruntled. “I’m not going to teach your student just because you can’t plan your schedule.” 

She raised a brow. “I was trying to give you an excuse, but if you insist on being a petulant child, I’ll call you out on your bullshit in public, sure,” she gestured at him with her fork. “This whole will-they-won’t-they shtick is getting real old, real fast. I know Kyle is still firmly sat in denial about whatever it is you’re doing, but I am literally going to stab my skate into your skull if you keep this up. You’ve been texting, it’s cute, time to stop being a baby and start having actual conversations.” 

He opened his mouth to cut in. She wasn’t done. 

“I think you should thank me for giving you an excuse to spend time with him without actually asking, so, you’re welcome, jackass,” she said as she rolled spaghetti round her fork. “He’s none the wiser, I haven’t told him shit, so you’re in the clear. But please, do me a favour and don’t make me watch you both awkwardly flirt for weeks, yeah?” 

She met his eyes as she shovelled the food in her mouth, giving him space to speak and daring him to argue with her. 

“Whatever,” Craig turned his attention to his pizza. “I’ll do your dumb lesson.” 

Butters let out a low whistle. “Wow, Wendy, you’re a bitch when you wanna be, huh?” 

If she told Kyle to expect a different coach, he never mentioned it via text. Craig wasn’t going to be the first to bring it up. Instead they continued as normal and it wasn’t until he was at the rink pulling his skates on that it came up. When Kyle approached him, he didn’t look surprised to see Craig sat there, and instead smiled widely flashing his teeth. 

“Hey, Wendy mentioned I should expect you.” 

“Yup,” he stood and leant on one hip as he surveyed Kyle’s appearance. “Get ready. I’ll meet you on the ice.” 

Kyle was quick to join him, skating behind him without trying to catch up. They did a few warm up laps like that in silence, and he supposed that to onlookers it would be easy to mistake them as two separate skaters. 

Eventually he turned around, catching wandering brown eyes and pink cheeks. 

“What do you want to work on today?” 

Kyle shrugged. “I dunno. I feel like…I kind of reached my goal, right? Successfully doing a routine to prove a point to you. Unless you think we can work towards-?” 

“You’re not lifting me.” 

The redhead straight up pouted. 

“She’s using you as practice,” Craig observed. “Someone to train so she can get a feel for it.” 

“Yeah, pretty much. That was the agreement, that she’d teach me that routine, and I’d be her first student to run a trial on. She’s a good teacher.” 

“So what, is today just a slacker day?” 

Kyle’s lips turned up at the corners. “You tell me.” 

Craig scowled and turned back forward, dropping into line beside Kyle. “I have no interest in coaching.” 

“What do you have an interest in?” 

“Competitions. Wendy will make a good coach, and Butters will eventually join a show, because he so desperately wants to be in Disney on Ice, and I’m pretty sure he just wants to leave home. I’ll keep participating in competitions.” 

Kyle snorted at that. “I can see Butters in a show. It’d suit him.” 

He had to agree. 

“Maybe you should show me some moves then, and I can decide what I want Wendy to teach me?” 

Craig narrowed his eyes as he looked over at the redhead. 

Kyle wasn’t looking at him. “Just a suggestion, y’know. Seeing as I don’t really know what to learn next.” 

“It’s not often I get the rink to myself,” he reasoned as an excuse, despite the fact he couldn’t deny to himself the real appeal was in being able to show off. “I have…a routine I’ve been working on.” 

“Yeah?” Kyle looked up with a lopsided smile. “Can you show me?” 

“Okay.” 

Kyle tailed off towards where they’d left their things and Craig tried to block out his presence and instead focused on the moves that he’d been planning in his head for the past couple of weeks. 

Once he was in full swing he found it much easier to push aside the fact that he had an audience. In fact, having next to no one in the stands was a rare treat that he revelled in, being able to focus only on the ice and his movements as he traced patterns with his skates. 

As he landed from a spin he looked up to where Kyle was, seeing the chocolate eyes pinned to his form, leaning against the barrier at the edge of the rink. He felt a rush of pride at the knowledge he’d captured Kyle’s attention, fully and without fail. 

Maybe he put a few extra flares on his moves. Maybe he went on for a little longer than usual. 

It was hard not to when having that intense gaze on him made him feel so good. 

As he came to the end of what he had planned he took his time doing a couple more laps before skating over to where his companion was, seeing the redhead fishing about in his bag. He wiped his brow as he got closer, thankful to see that what Kyle was looking for was a bottle of water. 

“Here,” Kyle offered. 

“Thanks,” he took the water bottle and raised it to his lips where he was, not yet ready to leave the ice. 

“That was…you looked good.” 

He raised a brow. Kyle began to flounder. 

“I mean, you did, you’re really nice, when you skate – that’s, nice maybe isn’t the right word, but – uh – you did well.” 

The redhead grimaced at his own poorly constructed sentence. Craig smirked, enjoying watching him squirm. 

“Don’t just stay quiet, you dick.” 

“Sorry,” Craig said, completely unapologetic. “It’s fun watching you dig yourself a hole.” 

Kyle took the water bottle back with a half-hearted glare. 

“Where are you from?” 

The redhead startled at the question. “What?” 

“You didn’t grow up here, did you?” Craig asked, knowing he hadn’t. He only remembered seeing Kyle’s face dotted about when they were teenagers and he already had skating experience under his belt. 

“No,” Kyle confessed. “I’m from New Jersey, though we lived in Canada too. It’s where my brother’s from.” 

“Is that where you learnt to skate?” 

“I learnt because of him. When my brother was a kid, he was really into ice-hockey. I learnt so that he had someone to play with, and watch the games with. I was the one who carried it on, though.” 

Craig wasn’t sure he could imagine picking up any hobby specifically for his sister. Not without a lot of badgering from his mother. 

“I guess I enjoyed it a lot more than I ever thought I would,” he confessed. “When we moved during high school, I specifically asked my dad to look for jobs in a town that had a rink with a team I could join.” 

“And you found one.” 

“Yeah,” Kyle mused with a smile. “I did. And you already were at odds with Stan.” 

Craig pulled a face. 

“He said to me once that you used to call him butch boy at school.” 

“Yeah, after he was fucking about on the ice one day and showered me in shavings when he shaved the top layer of ice off to show off to Wendy.” 

Kyle failed to hide a smile. “Yeah, he may have mentioned that. Not quite in that order.” 

“Bastard,” Craig muttered. “He’s always been a graceless barbarian.” 

“Why is it such a bad thing?” Kyle asked. “You always say we lack grace.” 

Craig glared across at the ice, not wanting to meet Kyle’s eyes. 

“What’s wrong with being a little rough sometimes?” 

“My first coach refused to teach me.” 

Kyle didn’t respond. Craig tried to summon the courage to keep going. 

“He said I wasn’t refined enough. That to be on the ice you had to be elegant, and graceful, and refined, and I was none of those things. I was a thug in disguise, and I would be more like an elephant than a ballerina.” 

“What the fuck, dude?” 

“He suggested I might be better suited to hockey.” 

Kyle’s expression flickered as the pieces clicked in place. 

“I told him to shove it up his ass,” Craig continued with a huff. “That he should just accept he’s a shit coach if he’s gonna be like that.” 

When still no words came, Craig began to babble. 

“I don’t know where he got off, telling kids shit like that. Like just because I was a little rough around the edges didn’t mean I couldn’t – and I did! I did exactly what he said I couldn’t do…” he felt the wind leave him as he thought of the rough kid that he was before he tried to become something else. “I love to skate, but…” 

“I think sometimes it’s okay to be a little rough.” 

He looked over to the redhead, seeing the warm brown eyes staring straight at him. 

“Just because you’re graceful on the ice doesn’t mean you can’t be a bit rough off it. Hell, I think you could get away with being a little rough on the ice too,” Kyle climbed back onto the ice with a grin, flashing that chipped tooth that Craig focused in on. “I’ve skated your way. Maybe it’s your turn to skate my way.” 

Craig flushed. “What, like some-?” 

“Hooligan hockey player?” Kyle teased. “I mean like someone who wants to let off a little steam. Race me.” 

“Race you?” 

“Yeah!” Kyle gestured around. “It’s just me and you. No one to see you having fun, your reputation as the grumpy old man won’t be ruined.” 

“I’m not an old man,” Craig defended as he skated towards Kyle, who was moving backwards. “Fuck you.” 

“You’re agreeing to grumpy then?” 

He huffed out. 

Kyle winked. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.” 

“Fine,” Craig tried not to allow the smirk to break past his lips. “Go.” 

Kyle let out a shout of protest as Craig took off, stumbling as he spun round to start skating. He focused on little else other than _w_ _inning_ as he began to rip round the ice. Kyle was hot on his heels. 

He laughed as the redhead tried to undertake him and picked up speed, feeling a rush of adrenaline along with the wind that brushed past his cheeks. He made his turns perfectly and smirked over his shoulder at the redhead itching to catch up. 

When he felt a hand grab a fistful of his sweater he swore out, steeling himself as Kyle volleyed himself forward. 

“That’s cheating!” 

Kyle grinned and gave him the middle finger. 

He gave another push and attempted to shove his shoulder into Kyle’s, unsurprised that he didn’t have the weight to knock him off his feet. Just enough to make him wobble. 

Kyle gave as good as he got. They squabbled as they skated, and Craig felt looser than he had in a while, allowing himself to fully let go with an almost manic smile on his face as he pushed and shoved his way into the lead. 

He wasn’t surprised when Kyle grabbed him with a large _oof_ and attempted to spin him round, causing him to let out a yelp of surprise. He twisted to go backwards, trying to grapple his way out of the hold, before – 

He lost his footing, desperately trying to keep standing, but Kyle hit him full force and that was all he needed to tumble. 

Kyle managed to keep going for only a second longer before he was down, letting out a groan of pain through his laughter as the pair ended up lying next to each other on their backs. 

“Jesus, dude,” Kyle groaned out as he lifted his hips to rub his back. “Way to stick a landing.” 

Craig let out a breathy laugh. “Thanks. You too.” 

The redhead turned to look at him. “I knew you knew how to have fun.” 

He elbowed the man in the side. Kyle reacted quickly, grasping at his elbow and starting a petty wrestling match. 

Before he knew it, Kyle used his strength to grasp both of Craig’s arms and hold them in place, his hands wrapped round Craig’s forearms with his elbows on the ice, face hovering over Craig’s own. Craig smirked up at the redhead’s grinning face as he shifted underneath him, mind flashing back to the intimate exchange they’d shared in the store room. 

“You always this rough, Broflovski?” 

The flirty tone in his voice must’ve shook something in Kyle, as the redhead flushed and spluttered over his words. It only made Craig’s smirk widen as he revelled in how easy he could find it to undo the man above him. 

“What? Too much for you?” 

“No,” Kyle breathed out. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

“We’re all alone,” Craig pointed out. “And you have me pinned to the ice. What were you expecting?” 

“Shit - sorry, I-?!” 

Craig chuckled as Kyle began to pull back. “I wasn’t complaining.” 

Kyle stopped, settling back into his place, and Craig watched his throat as he swallowed before speaking. “Well...I guess I’ll stay here then.” 

It took him a few more moments to summon the courage, but Craig was patient as he waited for the redhead to lean down and meet his lips. The cold ice on his back felt so strange against the warm body that lay across him, Kyle shifting his legs to allow himself to crowd round more of Craig’s space. 

At least this time there wasn’t hockey equipment blocking Kyle’s strong frame. It left Craig able to pull a hand away from Kyle’s grasp and slip it underneath the sweater hanging loosely round his frame and feel the muscles hidden beneath. 

“Shit,” Kyle gasped out as Craig began to pepper kisses along his jawline. He hid a smile as he felt a hand wander from his hips down to his leg, fingers twitching as they resisted squeezing the thigh that he lifted up. “I fucking adore your legs.” 

“Hmm?” he brought his lips back to Kyle’s, not close enough to kiss, but close enough that their noses were pressed side-by-side. “That doesn’t surprise me, with how much you like it when I skate.” 

“You’re really hot,” Kyle confessed. “You know that?” 

“I do, but I don’t mind you telling me.” 

Kyle shut him up with another kiss, and the fingers against his thigh finally gave in to squeeze tight. 

He let out a low groan of annoyance as he heard the sound of the front doors echoing around the rink. He appreciated having the warning, but hated that it meant they had to bring their session to a close. 

“That’ll be Stan.” 

“What?” Craig pulled back with a furrowed brow. “Stan?” 

“Stan picks me up after my sessions with Wendy,” he explained. 

“I can’t believe you get picked up by your loser boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Whatever,” Craig leant up again to nip at the skin along Kyle’s jaw. 

“You’ve got a weird sense of humour, you know that?” 

He gave a hum of acknowledgement. 

“He’ll be through here any second.” 

“Yeah, and he’ll find out we’re busy and fuck off.” 

Kyle chuckled as he pulled back fully, sitting up on his knees and towering over Craig. Craig, who did his best not to look like a total brat sprawled out on the ice. 

“It almost hurts to leave you,” Kyle admitted. 

“Then don’t.” 

The door to the rink opened. Craig gave a hefty sigh as he pulled his legs back and stood up, skating to put some distance between himself and his student as he looked over to where the new person had entered. Kyle was right. It was Stan. 

Stan, who looked over at him with narrowed eyes as he stepped towards the rink door and leant over the barrier to see his friend who had scrambled up and was attempting to bring some sense to his mused hair. 

“Hey,” Stan greeted. “You ready to go?” 

“Yeah, pretty much. I just gotta change out of my skates.” 

“Sure thing, dude. I’ll wait here.” 

Kyle hesitated. He looked over to Craig, who made no attempt to get off the ice as he looked over the redhead with his most neutral gaze he could summon. 

Without arguing the redhead began to move, heading over to the opposite side of the rink where he’d left his shoes. Craig turned his gaze to Stan who was still lingering at the entrance, though instead of watching his best friend his blue eyes were pinned to Craig. 

Craig, who narrowed his eyes and raised his chin, as if he was expecting a challenge. 

“He never mentioned that it’d be you instead of Wendy.” 

“Did he not?” Craig shrugged. “Must’ve slipped his mind.” 

“What’s your game, Tucker?” 

He raised a brow. “What’re you talking about?” 

“Why have you suddenly decided to show an interest in Kyle?” 

“Like I had much of a choice, the way he crowbarred his way into my life,” Craig shot back. 

Stan huffed out and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, fine, maybe he did, but usually when one of us tries to make friends with you, you-?” 

“None of you have tried to make friends with me,” Craig corrected. “Don’t go acting like I’m being so out of character.” 

“That’s not true!” 

“Oh, sure, you pinning me to a locker and demanding to know why I don’t let go of grudges is totally you trying to be my friend.” 

Stan flushed with shame. “You’re no better!” 

“I never said I was,” Craig turned his eyes away, seeing Kyle beginning to make his way round through the stands. “But...maybe I’m allowed to change my mind.” 

“You should come to our next game, then.” 

Craig looked over with wide eyes, his composure breaking at the strange request. 

Stan looked tense, uncomfortable, but he wasn’t backing down. “You should come to our next game with Butters, and Wendy’s invited too. It’d be nice to see you there.” 

“I...?” 

“You’ve got time to make your mind up,” Stan turned as Kyle came into hearing distance of their conversation. “Ready?” 

“Yeah, I’m ready!” Kyle gripped Stan’s elbow once he was there, spinning to give Craig a wobbly grin, flashing his chipped tooth. “Thanks for today!” 

“Sure,” Craig murmured, not quite sure how he was meant to recover. 

Kyle all but dragged Stan out the rink. It left Craig on his own, staring at the door where they’d left from, trying to figure out how the hell he was meant to take an invitation from Stan to go to one of their games. 

\--

Wendy had been the one to suggest he joined them on a night out. She pointed out that it had been a while since they went dancing, and she didn’t want to be subject to the boys on the hockey team for a full night. Sure, Butters would be there, but he didn’t dance with her like Craig did. She would be left at a table to talk sports for a full few hours. 

“Why would I want to go out with the hockey team?” 

“You’re not going out with the hockey team, you’re going out with me,” she argued. “Besides, it’s not like you’ve never been in the same place as them before. You don’t have to actually chat to them.” 

She was right. As soon as he arrived, an hour late, she was ready for the dance floor. He didn’t even get to the table with the group before she was pushing him towards the bar. 

“Shots,” she announced. “I need to be more drunk, and you need to catch up. An hour late – you’re a fucking dick.” 

He didn’t argue. Straight vodka as his first drink mightn’t have been his normal choice, but she didn’t take no for an answer. He managed to get a lemonade to wash it down with, at least. 

“Sambuca next.” 

“Jesus, how drunk are you trying to get me?” Craig questioned with a grimace. “I’ve been in here barely five minutes.” 

“An hour late,” she repeated. “You know they literally just sat and talked about some football game, for a full forty minutes? I hate you. Take your shots like a good boy.” 

He didn’t argue with her after that. 

She was a little on the wobbly side once they left the bar, and he made a pitstop by the table with the hockey players to drop his coat with Butters before he departed for the dance floor. Butters, who looked up with a bright smile and promised he’d only steal a teensy bit of Craig’s money. 

“If you do, at least get me a drink with it as well,” Craig grumbled out as he tried his best not to look around the rest of the table. “Bring it to me.” 

Butters raised a brow as his eyes landed on the drink already in Craig’s hand. 

“Wendy said I need to catch up.” 

“Yeah, because you’re late.” 

“I’m not late,” Craig argued. “I never said I would get here for ten.” 

Butters rolled his eyes and Wendy tugged on his wrist to drag him over to the dance floor. 

He managed to resist the urge to look across the table where the only redhead sat, though he knew the man was looking at him. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he’d dressed up for the occasion. 

Dancing was one of the reasons he and Wendy had become friends. Butters much preferred to chat when they were out, and on one of the days where they were Wendy and Craig had been left sat next to each other in silence watching everyone around them. She had got up to dance on her own when Craig had asked to go with her. 

Now it was one of their favourite activities. 

“You look good,” she complimented as she ran her hands up to his shoulders. “Trying to impress someone?” 

“I always look good.” 

She narrowed her eyes with a knowing smile on her face. “Hmm, you’re not wrong.” 

Butters found them after a while, bringing him a glass of some fruity cocktail that he had picked, two straws so Craig and Wendy could share. They stopped dancing long enough to go through the drink quickly, standing with their foreheads practically pressed together as they did so. 

He felt the happy buzz of the liquid coursing through him as he continued to move with the music, one of his friends close by brushing against him, keeping them both in their bubble of joy as they let their stresses out around them. 

He didn’t know how long they had been dancing. Countless songs passed them, and they had taken one break to get another drink at the counter, Wendy tying her hair up into a bun on her forehead as she fanned her face from the heat of the room. 

He was proud of himself for not even looking over to the hockey table once while they were there. He wasn’t forced to acknowledge the elephant in the room until he was directly approached, glancing over Wendy’s shoulder to see red curls and brown eyes getting closer. 

He smirked at the look of dilated pupils. Maybe he was playing a little hard to get. 

“Can I cut in?” 

The pair stopped, Wendy spinning round in Craig’s arms to see Kyle behind them. He was beginning to think that Kyle wasn’t going try disrupt them. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t a least a little pleased to see that he had. 

“Craig?” 

He turned to see Wendy looking up at him with twinkling eyes. But despite the teasing look on her face, she didn’t just leave. 

She was waiting for his okay before she ditched him. 

He let go of her and she took that as his approval, hand grazing Kyle’s shoulder as she disappeared from the dance floor. He stood facing Kyle for a few moments, raising a brow as a smirk formed across his face, watching the brow eyes flitter around with nerves. 

“What, did you not plan this far?” 

Kyle gave a nervous laugh. “Honestly? No, I didn’t.” 

“You can do a routine. Can you dance?” 

“Uh, I-I can try.” 

“Stand on my feet and I’ll be sending you back to your hooligans.” 

“No pressure.” 

Kyle stepped forward into the place where Wendy had been, and Craig wasted no time in closing the gap. 

This time he didn’t have skates on his feet to disguise his height. Kyle was a few inches shorter than him, though his wide set shoulders probably made up for any size difference. Craig wondered exactly how well built the ice-hockey players had to be as he ran his hands from Kyle’s collarbone out towards his shoulders, fingers flaring as they reached the top of his arms. 

He felt hands settle on his waist, pulling him close, keeping him close. He wasn’t surprised to find the honey eyes already on him, locked on his face. 

“You look good.” 

His lips twitched upwards at the compliment. “Thanks. You do too.” 

Kyle shuffled in place and his eyes flickered away. “I would’ve tried harder if I knew you were coming.” 

“Still trying to impress me?” 

“Yes.” 

The honesty caught him off guard. 

“It’s why it took me so long to come over,” Kyle confessed. “I wasn’t expecting you.” 

“Did they not tell you I was coming?” 

“No,” red brows pulled together. “Apparently Stan thought it’d be funnier to see the look on my face when you rocked up out the blue.” 

He snorted, but had to admit he was with Stan on that one. 

Kyle seemed to attempt to be subtle as he used the moves of the dance to bring them closer, and Craig didn’t point it out. He didn’t want to make the already nervous man even worse than he was. 

“I-I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...” Kyle started, close enough that Craig could feel his breath ghosting across his skin. “But...” 

The way the brown eyes flickered down to his lips made Craig think that he might’ve known what it was Kyle wanted to ask for. 

He ducked down without another word, sealing their lips together. 

He ran his hands back up to Kyle’s collarbone and to his neck, thumbs tucking behind his ears to help angle his head better to deepen the kiss. He let out a sigh of relief as he felt the fingers on his hips squeeze lightly, bringing their torsos together. 

There was something so intoxicating about kissing someone in the middle of a dance floor, surrounded by all these strangers. There was something intoxicating about kissing Kyle, no matter where they were. It always felt like the redhead was holding back, thrumming with energy and passion that he never quite let go of. 

Craig wished he could make him let go of it. 

Craig wanted to be subjected to the full force of the redheaded volcano. 

He allowed the kiss to deepen when he felt Kyle’s tongue brush against his lower lip, tilting his head further and meeting him head-on. He could feel his heart hammering away in his chest despite the fact that his hands felt frozen in place, stuck to his neck, unable to move despite the energy coursing through his veins. 

He might’ve been a little tipsy on the alcohol Wendy had plied him with, but he was drunk on Kyle alone. 

When he pulled back from the kiss, Kyle followed him with a whine that shot straight to his groin. 

“Do you want to go outside?” 

“What?” Kyle’s brows pulled together as he tried to bring himself back to his senses. 

“Outside,” Craig clarified. “Instead of making out in the middle of the dancefloor?” 

“Yes. Yeah, I’ll do that.” 

The enthusiasm was adorable. 

Craig led the way, their hands clasped between them to keep them together. They left via the back exit, a few smokers dotted around murmuring together amongst themselves, enclosed in a rope partition that signalled how far they could take their drinks. 

Craig ducked under it with Kyle still hot on his heels as they headed round the corner of the alley to a dead end. Close enough that they could still hear the smokers and the muted sound of music flowing out from the place, but far enough that it felt like they were alone. 

He didn’t have time to speak before Kyle set on him. 

He grunted as his back hit the wall, but it didn’t stop him from submerging himself in the kiss. His hands definitely weren’t frozen that time. 

As Kyle’s tongue explored his mouth, his fingers explored Kyle’s torso. The well-fitted v-neck he wore made it much easier to trace the lines of his muscles and absorb every inch he could get his palms on, squeezing and dragging his nails across the skin, across the fabric at the back of Kyle’s shirt. 

He gasped out as the kiss was broken, though Kyle’s assault of his senses didn’t stop. When that tongue deftly moved across his jaw and when the man bit experimentally on the skin just below his ear, he found himself glad that he was being held up against the wall, because he wasn’t sure if he’d manage to keep standing without the support. 

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped out, all too aware of their proximity to actual people. All too aware of how long he wanted to keep Kyle all to himself. 

“You make it really difficult to keep my hands to myself,” Kyle told him as he traced the feeling of Craig’s rear towards his legs. 

“Yeah, that was kind of the point,” he said. “I didn’t forget what you said about my legs.” 

He cut off any reply with another kiss, daring himself to dart his tongue out just passed the pink lips, tracing over his front teeth. 

He felt that sharp edge caused by the left chipped tooth and went a little dizzy. 

When Kyle’s hips pressed into his own he lost all ability to kiss. He was left breathing heavily against Kyle’s mouth, though the redhead didn’t seem like he was in a much better position. His brown eyes were dark as they stared up at Craig, brows pinched and breathing heavy as he began to grind their hips together. 

Craig could feel his arousal matched on Kyle through his jeans and he didn’t think he could stop himself from wanting it. He swallowed the build-up of saliva in his mouth in an attempt to quench his thirst. 

“I want to taste you,” the words tumbled past his lips before he could think about what he was saying. 

A hungry look overtook Kyle’s face. “I’d kiss you all night.” 

“No,” Craig moved his hand, trailing his fingers down Kyle’s front and passed his belt, settling on his crotch and feeling heat pool in his stomach at the hardness he felt underneath the jeans. “I want to _taste_ you.” 

“Please.” 

The word was said so quietly, so _desperately_ , who was Craig to say no? 

It was his turn to push Kyle up against a wall, lips moving from his lips along his jaw, down to his neck and pausing long enough to leave a few bites as he worked down to his collar. His fingers fanned out underneath the t-shirt Kyle was wearing to feel just how hot the skin beneath was. 

He dropped to his knees and even in the dark he could see how much Kyle wanted it. 

“Isn’t this – are you sure about this?” 

Craig rolled his eyes, but looked up and attempted to keep his patience. “If you’re not okay with it, I’m not going to. Just say the word and I’ll stop.” 

Kyle licked his lips, eyes roaming over Craig’s form. 

“It’s not a bad thing, if you don’t want to. I won’t judge you.” 

“I do,” he confessed. “I really do.” 

Craig smirked and leant closer to Kyle’s crotch where his prize waited. “Alright then.” 

He started with a kiss. One that turned into several, tracing the outline of Kyle’s erection through his jeans. He raised his hands to start unbuckling the belt and popping open the jeans, biting down on a laugh as Kyle’s hands moved to help him and speed up the process. 

He was practically salivating by the time Kyle had exposed himself to the air, and he wasted no time in giving the man a chance to change his mind. 

Craig didn’t think there was anything that could quite describe the feeling it brought him to have his mouth wrapped round someone’s cock, and his eyes fluttered closed with pleasure as he felt Kyle’s fingers run through his hair and settle there, holding on as Craig worked his tongue. He started slow at the tip, swirling his tongue round before he attempted to take too much too quickly. Instead he used one of his hands at the base to start Kyle off, the other hand settling just above his knee where his jeans still covered his skin. 

“Fuck, Craig,” Kyle’s voice cracked as he spoke, and Craig glanced up enough to see the brown eyes trained on him, face twisted in pleasure. 

He turned his attention back to the task at hand and bobbed his head forward, taking in more of Kyle, eyes rolling in pleasure as he felt the fingers in his hair tighten and pull a little too hard on his hair. 

He wasn’t sure if Kyle noticed how tightly he was holding on, but if he didn’t Craig hoped it stayed that way. He gave a strained moan as the redhead’s hips bucked, the only thing stopping him from gagging that he still had one hand wrapped round the base of his cock to stop him from getting his throat fucked. Maybe with a little more practice he wouldn’t be opposed to it, but he wanted the first one to be as good as he could give. 

His technique started to slip as he listened to the panting above him, mixing in with the muted sound of music from inside the club. He traded in working his tongue for working his jaw, bobbing back and forth, meeting his lips with his fingers as he worked Kyle towards an orgasm. He hollowed out his cheeks like he was dying of thirst. 

“Craig I’m gonna-?” 

He pressed forward resolutely as Kyle tried to pull him away. Any resistance died at his insistence that he took the load. 

Kyle’s hips bucking was the only warning he needed to pull back half way to give himself some breathing room for the cum that assaulted his mouth. 

He pulled back with a crude _pop_ before he swallowed. 

“Holy fuck,” Kyle breathed out and he looked up to see the brown eyes blown wide, dark as they stared down at him. “You’re really hot.” 

He smirked up and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Thanks.” 

“Do you want-?” 

"No,” he shook his head and stood. “We shouldn’t be too much longer. They might start coming to find us.” 

Kyle bit down on his lip. “I feel selfish, taking from you and not returning.” 

“That’s fine,” Craig assured as he got back to his feet, towering over Kyle and trapping him against the wall. “You’ll just have to owe me one.” 

Kyle licked his lips, and Craig’s eyes traced the motion. “I don’t mind that.” 

“First, I should probably get a drink.” 

“I-I don’t mind getting you one. Seeing as, you know...” 

“What?” Craig smirked, amused by the flustered stumbling. “Gave you a blowjob in the alleyway?” 

“Yeah. That.” 

He was right about their friends coming to find them. Almost as soon as they arrived at the bar, Wendy set on him and scolded him for disappearing. He brushed it off as them having gone outside to get some fresh air. 

“I-I didn’t know where you were!” she whined, gripping his sleeve to keep herself standing. “None of these other boys know how to dance!” 

“How drunk are you?” 

Her only answer was a hiccup. 

“What time is it?” he asked over his shoulder to Kyle. 

“It’s nearly half two.” 

He turned back to Wendy, stood swaying softly to the music. “I think I’m gonna take her home.” 

“No!” she whined out. “You’re having fun! You – I'll be fine, going home on my own!” 

“No, you won’t,” he insisted. “I’m taking you home.” 

Kyle spoke up to agree. “You should let him, Wendy. I can get him a drink another time.” 

“You were gonna get him a drink?” she asked with wide eyes and a soft smile. It was a look Craig recognised, and one that he did not want to have to get caught up in, because he knew what a romantic she could be. 

“C’mon, let’s go get our stuff. Is it still with Butters?” 

Ten minutes later found the two of them heading down the street, arms linked to keep themselves steady, one far too drunk and one feeling well into the heavily tipsy scale. With his house closer, Wendy ended up crashing on his sofa the night, chattering away as he got her a blanket and a glass of water, off with the fairies. 

When he woke up in the morning it was with a text from Kyle on his phone. It was the start of a long string of messages, each one making butterflies in his stomach. 

\--

He sat in the stands between Wendy and Butters, feeling far too out of place. He wasn’t hidden behind sunglasses this time and was sat in one of the front rows at Butters’ request. He was dimly aware that he still didn’t know what would be happening on the rink despite Butters giving him another rundown on the car journey over. 

“This is weird,” he muttered to Wendy as Butters started cheering with the crowd when the players entered the rink. “I feel like I shouldn’t be here.” 

“You know what that is? Guilt. That’s a guilty conscience.” 

He glared at her. 

“I’m sure they don’t care. They’re not the type to hold grudges. Didn’t Stan invite you?” 

“Yes, and I feel like it was a trick.” 

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t press further. 

He tried not to look too visibly happy when someone came colliding with the side of the rink in front of them, causing both himself and Wendy to jump in their seats. It was Butters who greeted the player. 

“Heya, Kyle! You ready for the game?” 

“Yeah,” he replied through the screen, voice raised for them to hear him over the buzzing atmosphere around. “Glad you guys could make it.” 

Craig liked to think that the way the brown eyes settled on him meant that Kyle was speaking only to him. 

After a beat of silence the redhead was called over to the rest of the team, and he gave Craig a toothy grin before he pushed off the side and made his way over to the group. His heart gave a solid thump in his chest. 

“You’re so out of your depth,” Wendy observed. 

“Shut up.” 

Butters chuckled at his embarrassment. “I think it’s cute. We never get to see this side of you!” 

“Yeah, for good reason.” 

The game was similar to last time. Wendy or Craig would ask a question to Butters, who filled in the blanks, and Craig was glad that at least when it came to the rules he wasn’t the only one that wasn’t aware of every aspect. She had a bit of a grasp on the game, but not to the same commitment that Butters did. 

When their team scored, Butters was one of the first to cheer or spring to his feet, Wendy and Craig following his lead with a little less enthusiasm. After their first break the pair decided that Butters needed to be sat between them to answer any questions they had. 

“It’s so nice, coming to see the game with you both!” Butters gushed with a shy honesty. “I know it’s not really your thing, but…” 

“We don’t mind,” Wendy assured with a smile. “It’s pretty cool to watch.” 

“It makes you happy,” Craig agreed. 

That was all they needed to say for Butters to beam a sunshine smile. 

During the second half, their team didn’t play quite as well. Or maybe it was more that the visiting team stepped up their game. More complicated plays led to Wendy and Craig probing Butters for a full commentary to go with the view. 

When one of the players made a particularly bad play, Craig shot up straight in his seat as he watched on. 

“Oh, yikes,” Butters whimpered next to him. “That’s gotta sting.” 

Kyle went down hard, landing awkwardly on one arm as his stick went flying. Stan jumped over the oncoming stick and landed on his kneepads as he checked on his teammate. 

The buzzer sounded for the start of the second break. 

“Can we-?” 

“’Fraid not,” Butters answered. “He’ll be alright, Craig, don’t you worry! They’re a pretty hardy bunch!” 

His immediate instinct was to bark out about them being hooligans, and how they had it coming with the way they fucked about on the ice. But… 

The words didn’t come so easy anymore. 

Wendy offered to go get them snacks as they waited for the final set. He let out a breath as he saw the players return to the ice, Kyle in tow, ready to finish the game. 

They won. 

After the game Stan approached the rail, similar to how he had the last time, wide smile on his face at their victory as Butters stood and rushed forward to greet him. 

“You did so well!” 

Stan laughed. “Thanks. Are you guys hanging about? We’re going to Shakey’s.” 

“Sure!” Butters glanced behind him to Wendy and Craig. “Are you two coming?” 

Wendy gave an awkward laugh. “Sure, why not?” 

“You’re our ride,” Craig pointed out. “We literally have to go where you go.” 

“I guess you’re coming to Shakey’s then!” 

“We’ll meet you in the car park. We’ll be like, twenty minutes?” 

They decided to wait it out in the stands. Butters watched the ice resurfacer go round the rink as Wendy and Craig made idle small talk around him. Once the machine had finished and was returning to its place they started to gather up their things and head out. 

They slowed down as they exited the building, finding the hockey players gathered in the almost empty car park. They were scattered around, watching on at two players in particular who were stood glaring across the space at each other, the only thing between them their Captain, Stan. 

Whatever they were arguing about was lost on the trio as they stepped closer and watched it unfold. He recognised the larger player, a man who was bigger than the other hockey players, and appeared to spend his time in the goal when they watched. Cartman had gone to school with him and Stan, and as far as Craig knew they’d been friends for just as long. 

He scowled across at the scene in front of him, watching as Kyle squared up against the larger player, an almost manic grin spreading across Cartman’s face. 

“We all know Jews have two left feet,” Cartman spat out. 

“Shut up, Cartman.” 

“What? Has figure skating turned you into a pussy as well as a fag?” 

Kyle sucked in a deep breath through his nose and turned away. The way Cartman crowed with victory only pissed Craig off further. 

So he stepped forward, moving on autopilot as he thought _fuck this_ and decided to fully embrace the lesson that Kyle had taught him about being able to be a little rough sometimes. Cartman blanched as he approached, but Craig didn’t give him time to think, much less talk. 

He punched him square in the face. 

“Oh my god!” Wendy rushed forward as soon as it happened, by Craig’s side in a second to push him back by his chest, looking up at him with a pinched brow. “Now is totally not the time.” 

“He-he’s broken my nose!” came the whimpering voice of the brunette on the floor. “Someone call me an ambulance!” 

She spun round to glare down at him. “You’ll be fine, whatever – Craig, are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” he spat out through clenched teeth as he glared down at Cartman. “I feel better now.” 

“Let’s get you to the car and hope that the receptionist didn’t see that. Butters, can I have the keys?” 

Butters began to fumble about his pockets, but someone beat him to it. 

“I’ll take him to Stan’s car.” 

Attention fell on Kyle, who stood off to the side with a pale face, but was managing to hold himself together. Stan stepped forward with his keys and dropped them into Kyle’s hands. “Take Wendy with you. I’ll deal with Cartman.” 

As Wendy linked their arms together and started following Kyle, they heard Butters begin to attempt to calm a blubbering Cartman. He kept his eyes on the red curls in front of him and did his best to zone out the conversation that was happening. 

“Sorry,” he murmured one the anger spinning around his head began to fade. 

“Don’t apologise to me,” she scoffed. “Don’t apologise to him, either. He had it coming.” 

“You’re right though, maybe not the best time.” 

“I suppose, but…when is the best time?” 

They came to a stop outside a red car, Kyle unlocking it and glancing over to where they’d abandoned the rest of his team. 

“I’ll wait outside,” Wendy announced as she opened the back door and began to try push Craig into the car. “For Stan.” 

“You don’t have to-!” 

She gave a warm smile and Craig didn’t bother arguing with her as she cut Kyle off. “You deserve a rest after dealing with Cartman.” 

Before either of them knew it she’d shut the door on Craig and Kyle was sat next to him, plunged into the silence of the car. 

He couldn’t bring himself to look at the other man. Instead he stared out the window to where Cartman was, only Butters and Stan having stuck around to sort him out. Craig assumed the rest of them had started making tracks towards the pizza place that they’d decided to eat at. 

“Are you alright?” 

Kyle made a questioning noise. 

“You fell,” Craig pointed out, still not looking at his companion. “In the second set. Are you alright?” 

“I’ll be fine. It’s not the worst injury I’ve ever had on the ice.” 

“Is it what you were fighting about?” 

“I guess…it’s why he said I had two left feet.” 

Craig huffed out, glowering out the window at the bastard still bellowing in the middle of the car park. 

“I can’t believe you punched Cartman.” 

He finally looked over to Kyle with a scathing look. “I can’t believe you _didn’t_ punch Cartman.” 

Kyle turned his gaze away. 

“You don’t have to take shit all the time.” 

“What?” 

“Take shit, from everyone,” Craig snapped. “You were just gonna let him get away with it, and I’ve seen Stan walk over you before-?” 

“Stan’s my-?” 

“Best friend, yeah, whatever, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t walk over you! You let me do it, too!” 

Kyle shut his eyes as if it would help block out the words. He addressed them at least. “I know I do. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise!” 

“I…” 

Craig forced his temper to simmer. 

“I guess I’m not totally unlike you,” Kyle confessed. “In the way you were told you were too rough; I’ve always been told I act on my temper too much. Too hot-headed. I try really hard to not rise to my anger. So, I try to…let things go.” 

“Some things you shouldn’t let go.” 

Kyle gave a lopsided smile as he looked up. “I guess we could both stand to be a little rougher, huh?” 

He felt his mouth go dry as their eyes locked and he struggled to break the gaze. 

“Craig, I…” 

The driver’s door opened, breaking whatever mood was about to be set. Craig looked to the front to see Wendy open the passenger door and enter as Stan made himself comfortable and turned to take the keys from Kyle. 

“The others went ahead to get a table,” Stan explained. “Butters is gonna bring Cartman.” 

“Seriously?” Craig growled out. “He’s still coming to Shakey’s?” 

“He wouldn’t shut up about it. Started crying about how he didn’t want to miss pizza and he was sorry.” 

Wendy huffed out. “He’s only sorry that he’s going to miss food.” 

“I know, I know.” 

“I’m not sitting at a table with him,” Craig insisted. “You can drop me off at the bus stop, fuck that.” 

Stan let out a huff, but agreed. 

“I’ll go with Craig,” Wendy decided. 

That time Stan actively whined in protest. 

“Uh…” 

The attention turned to Kyle, who was running a hand over his messy curls. 

“I actually would prefer if you both came,” he confessed. “I think it’d spoil Cartman’s appetite to have you there. Nothing more satisfying than that.” 

Craig narrowed his eyes, but as soon as Kyle looked over at him, he knew he wasn’t winning that battle. 

“Fine,” he ground out. “Only because you asked.” 

That only seemed to make Kyle happier, a lazy smile spreading across his face. Craig got caught on the freckled cheeks and chipped tooth, and turned his attention to the window. 

“Wendy?” 

She gave a long-suffering sigh at Stan’s request. “Fine, okay, for Kyle.” 

They pulled up outside of Shakey’s Pizza, seeing Butters and Cartman not far behind. Craig didn’t pay them much attention as they arrived and he headed for the front door, Wendy in tow, with the two hockey players in front of them. 

He was sat down at the table next to Kyle, with Wendy on Kyle’s other side. She seemed determined to create a barrier around him, the six remaining seats split in threes, leaving Stan to sit with Cartman and Butters. Craig wasn’t sure if Kyle had wanted to sit next to Stan, but when Stan looked ready to put up a fight it had been Kyle who told him to suck it up. 

Instead Craig was left between Kyle and a hockey player he didn’t know, though he wasn’t allowed to stay quiet it seemed. 

“Hey, I’m Clyde!” the brunette greeted with a wide grin and a wave. “You’re the guy Kyle’s dating, right?” 

Craig blanched at the question, hot flush spreading across his cheeks. 

“Clyde!” Kyle snapped. “We’re not dating!” 

“Oh, right, sorry, you haven’t asked yet, my bad!” Clyde seemed completely undeterred by his own social faux pas. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you! And like, actually meet you, not just watch you and Stan argue. How did you enjoy the game?” 

“It…was fine,” he scanned over the brunette’s face for any sign of malice. “I don’t really know much about hockey.” 

He laughed. “Yeah, I figured. But you’ve got Butters who’s like, our biggest hype-man, so at least he could let you know what’s happening!” 

“He did. I honestly wouldn’t have known what I was watching without him.” 

“You throw a good punch though, I bet Cartman’s gonna have a swollen nose for _days_!” 

He felt a swell of pride at the observation. 

Clyde was…fine. A bit of a goofball. Enjoyable to talk to, if a bit scattered in places. The right amount of ‘dumb asshole’ for Craig to get attached to. Glancing across at Cartman half way through the meal to see the larger man pouting while he picked at his pizza made Craig glad that they agreed to still come. Kyle had been right. He looked thoroughly put out. 

He ended up getting a large pizza to share with Kyle. 

“Thanks for still coming,” Kyle murmured between bites. 

“Sure,” Craig shrugged it off. “You’re paying for the pizza.” 

The brown eyes rolled, but there was a smile on Kyle’s face that betrayed his amusement. 

When they left it was dark out, and the group all began to say their goodbyes to each other. Craig suffered through a long-winded farewell from Clyde before the brunette got distracted by Wendy, who seemed a lot less happy about receiving the attention. 

Craig took a few steps to the side, putting some distance between himself and the group as he waited for Wendy and Butters to be finished. He chose to entertain himself by watching his female friend be questioned from both sides by Clyde and Stan. 

“Clyde’s pretty cool.” 

He glanced to his left as he saw Kyle approach, as subtle as a brick through a window, sliding up next to him with is hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“He is,” Craig agreed. “I suppose you can’t all be bad. You’ve got to have one good one.” 

Kyle huffed. 

He chuckled low and took a step forward to close the distance. “Wanna tell me what he meant, when he said you hadn’t asked me yet?” 

The anger made way for a spluttering fool. “Oh, uh, I – I was gonna wait, you know, for a good time or whatever, but – uh…” 

Craig’s brow twitched in amusement. “Now seems like a good time.” 

“I-I guess so,” Kyle gave a nervous laugh. “It’s – yeah, now’s fine. It was – I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime. With me. If you’re…not busy?” 

“Wow,” Craig raised a brow. “How eloquent.” 

“I’m trying my best, lay off.” 

His smirk widened. “Your best is a mess. But…I think it works for me.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’d like to go out with you.” 

“On a date?” 

“Yes, on a date.” 

Kyle’s lips split into a grin, brown eyes shining bright as they looked up at him. “Cool. Cool, that’d be cool.” 

“You’re such a fucking dork.” 

“Hey! I am n-mm?!” 

He cut the sentence off with a kiss, ducking down to seal their lips together. He felt a smile begin to curve across his face as a buzz of happiness ran through him once Kyle snaked his arms around Craig’s waist, enjoying the open display of affection. 

He was vaguely aware of the fact that their friends were still there, still within earshot and still able to see them, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

When they separated there was a lopsided smile across Kyle’s face and he looked far too pleased with himself. It only made Craig want him more. So he stole another kiss, chaste and short compared to the others. 

“Besides,” he murmured against Kyle’s lips as he pulled back, eyes twinkling as he watched closely for Kyle’s reaction. “You owe me one.” 

“I...owe you one?” 

“For the club.” 

Watching the freckled cheeks turn a deep red would never get old. 

He took a few steps back out of the embrace he was held in with a playful smirk on his face, glancing over to see Wendy and Butters waiting for him. 

“I’ll text you later, hooligan.” 

He never thought he’d say that word in such an affectionate way. 

Kyle raised a hand in a half-hearted wave. 

As Craig joined his two friends he glanced over to see Stan and Clyde had descended on their teammate, the latter rubbing his fist into Kyle’s hair. His heart felt like it might explode. 

“So...” Wendy drawled. “Does this mean the will-they-won't-they is finally over?” 

“I don’t think it was ever a question, Wends,” Butters pointed out. “Not since Craig stole him away to make out in the skate-store room.” 

“You _what_?!” she shook his arm. “You never told me that!” 

“I never told him that, either!” 

Butters looked over his shoulder with false innocence. “Oh, so you did? I was just making a joke!” 

“Alright, I’m done giving you your space, Craig, out with it all, now.” 

“I don’t think you wanna know it all.” 

He still ended up telling her. 

After the third date, waking up to a strange room and having someone bring him a coffee in bed with messy curls and a chipped-tooth smile, he decided he’d never been so thankful to be wrong about something in his entire life. 

**Author's Note:**

> This AU was meant to be like, 3K words, just to get it out my system, and then I got WAY CARRIED AWAY. Still I loved it!! And I loved writing Craig a little differently to how I normally do! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it too!!


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